Page 16 - WTPVol.VII#9

Kayla lutes
A
don’t don’t choose a a place with too little sun or they won’t bloom And don’t don’t give them too much water They don’t like wet feet Then they’ll become dependent on on you you for a a a drink and you’ll have stripped them of their best attribute They’re a a common sense flower Give them them sun and and some water and and they’ll they’ll do do fine In fact they’ll they’ll do better if you ignore them Lilacs can be be planted in in in spring but autumn when everything else has been picked and processed is preferred—so they don’t take away necessary nutri- ents from newly planted crops They’ll need a a a layer of mulch and and compost in in the the the the spring and and they they should be pruned then too right after they they they bloom That is cru- cial If you let them grow too tall they’ll concentrate on making seeds instead of blooming Lilacs are prone to attacks by slugs and and snails The pests are hard to notice since they feed at night and their color camouflages them them in in in the the the the dirt Get rid of of slugs by drowning them them in in in beer or coffee—at night when you can find them If the the summer is hot and muggy lilacs can also develop white powder splotch- es
on their clusters of purple petals Though unsight- ly it it is harmless Ignore it it ~
My first two real experiences with with grief happened within days of of each other other First my my dog died then my my grandmother All of of this transpired during finals week the spring semester of of my sophomore year at a a a a small Christian college in Kentucky The days of exams
felt unreal and also more real real than the loss that was happening at my home an an hour and a a a a a a a a half away I would study at at the desk in in my my dorm room staring at at my my color-coded British Literature notes and and picture my my grandmother coming to babysit with a a a purse full of treats—double-bubble and mini flashlights that broke broke by the the the time she left She’d tell us not to cry We were the the ones who broke them I I I I didn’t didn’t tell my my professors about my my Grandma I I I I didn’t didn’t ask for an extension I I held my my my breath like when I I was training to become a a a a lifeguard in in in in high school We had to to stay underwater while the the the instructor clocked a a a minute I sunk to to the the bottom of the the pool knees pulled to my chest—an upright fetal position—waiting for the the sound of the the whistle with burning lungs For Grandma The weekend before my my Grandma’s death my my mom called to tell me that Grandma was in in in the hospital She had been in in and and out a a a a few times in in recent years and and neither Mom Mom nor I thought the the the last last time time was really the the last time Mom was gentle and and encourag- ing and and optimistic I I I shouldn’t worry myself with the long drive I I I I I had a a a week left of school and and I I I I I could see Grandma Grandma when I I I I finished I I I I guess that’s why I I I I pushed through the the the finals leading up to Grandma’s funeral I had convinced myself they were important the the the the week before and if I I didn’t finish them the the the guilt would would be be be unbearable I would have missed the last moments with my grandmother for nothing My mom called me about Annie while I I was in in the parking lot of of a a a a a cake shop Some friends and I had planned to celebrate the end of our sophomore year with cupcakes and and I’d thought it it would help me ccording to the Farmer’s Almanac lilacs are Lilacs in Memoriam
hardy easy to grow and low maintenance Just
feel better about losing my grandmother The cup- cake just stuck in in my my throat which ached with the tears that I I was was holding back until I I was was alone On the the phone my mom told me Annie the the blue-tick- hound mix we’d had had for thirteen years had had passed that morning Countless times I’d sat with her on the the the floor in in the the the space between my bed and and the the the wall hidden and and crying her blue-hued fur a a a tangible comfort and and now she was gone She’d fallen into my mom’s arms leaned against her her and closed her her eyes Weeks afterward I’d sit knees to chest in that same place between my my bed and and wall and and trail my my fingers through the the rough rough carpet wishing for the the feel of of An- nie’s soft fur I I arrived home in in time to kiss Annie before before my dad buried her her in in the the the garden It was the the the day before his mother’s funeral I hated picturing him physically working out his grief with a a a rusted shovel against recently tilled dirt but I I also envied the catharsis I I didn’t know where to put my emotions They felt awkward inside me I was a a a a a a bag of chips in in a a a a a a college lecture afraid to open up because the the sound might might be too loud People might might turn their heads and look look I I didn’t want them to look I I felt like there was a a a “right” way to grieve Some ingrained process I I had missed the memo for and if I I gave my emotions physicality I I would be open to judgement on how deeply (or not)
I had loved Everyone around me me seemed to to know what what to to do How to communicate what was happening inside them Dad cried in in his pew during the the funeral My 9
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